


Sometimes (There Are Still Miracles To Be Had)

by sansalannistark



Series: Sometimes [1]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Beth Lives, Daryl-Centric, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Grief/Mourning, Reunion, introspective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 08:50:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15815538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sansalannistark/pseuds/sansalannistark
Summary: It is not grief, so much as a hollow ache, which stays with Daryl in Alexandria. It stayed with him when she couldn't.[Beth Lives AU, set somewhere in the first half of season 6]





	Sometimes (There Are Still Miracles To Be Had)

**Author's Note:**

> I stopped watching at 5x08, as I know many did (such a stupid, stupid descision from the creators!) so if some details about Alexandria, and Daryl's role there, are wrong, just call it out! :) This is also my first foray into bethyl fic so constructive comments would be majorly appreciated!

Sometimes, Daryl finds his fingers drifting, brushing across the worn hilt of the knife he keeps tucked securely in the sheath attached to his jeans belt, curling around the hilt and squeezing hard that he can sometimes fool himself into believing the handle is still warm from where she has been holding it, has passed it onto his possession only an hour ago with the heady scent of her sweat lingering on the surface. That is, of course, until, he remembers that it has been months, not hours, since Beth Greene’s hands have held this blade, and the recollection causes an ache to bloom in his chest, in a place he had long thought empty of any kind of feeling. If it weren’t for these frequent reminders of a girl long dead, long lost, he might think he had lost the ability to feel at all. Sometimes he feels as hollow and empty as the world without her.

 

He tries not to think about her. Rick needs all the help he can get in Alexandria, so Daryl does his best to distract himself from the pain that long ago ceased to be grief, instead just another damaged scar to add to a neverending collection. He has a purpose here, he is _needed_ , but sometimes he wishes he was not. Out of the blue, Carol approaches and sits down beside him while he’s skinning a rabbit he hunted outside the walls.

 

“I’m glad you’re here,” she begins quietly, by way of introduction. “We all are.”

 

Daryl wants to ask what the fuck she’s doing, but he shuts his mouth. There’s been enough pain to drown them ten times over; there’s no point in lashing out anymore. Besides, he simply doesn’t have the energy.

 

Carol opens her mouth, he can sense it, then hesitates, then speaks, wavering only slightly, unnoticeable if it were to anyone else she was speaking. “Daryl,” she starts. He pauses, holding the knife - _Beth’s knife_ \- over the bloodied animal. “We want to help you.”

 

He grunts, returning to his task and there is a prolonged silence. He hopes Carol will just leave and let him finish his task in peace, but the woman can be annoyingly persistent.

 

“I know you still miss her. I get that. I think about… Sophia...” Carol’s voice rattles on her daughter’s name, but she catches herself. “I think about her every day. Daryl, you don’t have to miss her alone.”

 

“You don’ get it,” he mutters under his breath, feels Carol stiffen next to him.

 

“Daryl-”

 

“You don’ get it.” His tone is far more abrasive and he looks up at her sharply, seething now. “None of ya do. None of ya have any fuckin’ idea what I’m thinkin’. I don’ wanna talk about her.”

 

Carol sighs, standing up. “You can’t shut yourself away forever.”

 

“The hell I can’t,” he retorts, snarling. Carol huffs again and shakes her head but she walks away. Just because they’ve spent years together doesn’t mean he is any less private. They should all know that by now.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Maggie tried to talk to him, when Beth was barely cold, left unceremoniously and abandoned in the trunk of a car and they were just outside of Atlanta. She had come to him, tearfully, wanting to know anything he could tell her about her sister in the weeks they had spent together, but Daryl didn’t want to share anything with the woman who abandoned her sister. Maggie Greene didn’t deserve shit from him. He had done _everything_ to get her back, and what had the eldest Greene done? Left her for dead so she could go off to DC.

 

‘Sides, his time with Beth wasn’t something he wanted to share. Memory was the last thing he had of her; that, and a small worn knife.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Daryl is sitting with Judith, absently watching her play with a toy rabbit while he stares across the street, when Rick comes rushing up to him. Seeing the little blonde girl laughing at the rabbit reminds him again of Beth, robbed of a chance to live. She would have been happy here - this place was made for people like her, good people. She might have had kids here. He doesn’t dwell on who she would have had them with, because that is another thought entirely, and one he prefers to bury deep within him. He just knows Beth would have been a good mother and it’s unfair that she never got the chance, not properly, though she was more of a mother to Judith than anyone.

 

“Daryl,” Rick rasps, breathing heavily. “You need to come with me. Now. Give Judith to Carl.”

 

Daryl stares up at him, body on alert. “Wha’s it? Walkers?”

 

“Nah s’not tha’. Jus’ come with me. I can’t explain.”

 

He’s about to refuse, but Rick stares imploringly at him and Carl appears, hoisting Judith into his arms. Daryl has no choice but to follow their leader towards Alexandria's gate. There’s a crowd gathered there - well, not a crowd, but at least ten people talking quietly, but when they approach the talk turns to whisper and the crowd parts to let them pass. Rick walks in front but when they reach the centre, he turns and rests his hand on Daryl’s shoulder and Daryl frowns deeply.

 

“Wha’ the hell is this?”

 

“Just…” Rick mumbles, “just look.”

 

Rick steps aside and then Daryl looks past the few people in front of him and he feels something twist viscerally when he sees the figure at the centre.

 

Blonde locks are matted with blood and grime, and there’s a shorter patch on one side where he _knows_ he saw the bullet go in. The blue eyes are the same, staring at him with shock and then relief, before he hears his name from her mouth and she’s stumbling towards him and his arms instinctively close around her as she tumbles into his arms, right where she’s supposed to be, right where she _belongs_ , even if he doesn’t have a fucking clue how she got there.

 

_“Beth.”_


End file.
